"I always knew that I was..."—my friend gestured above his head—"on a higher level than my ex."
I nodded. Though, I did not agree. But what do I tell the guy? "Naw, bruh. Dat shiet is whack, yo. She a person. You a person. Das it. Ya feel me, bruh?"
Translation: All humans are created equal.
What do I mean by that?
Well, when a CEO walks down the hallway of any building and sees a janitor mopping the floor, the CEO may think she's above him. Now, if we're talking the business world where imaginary things like corporate ladders matter, then sure. The Tooth Fairy is also an imaginary thing. As are ghosts. Vampires. And soul mates.
But when a human is born, her value is no more than a human that's been on the Earth for 80 years because we all need to breath air, eat food, drink water, shit, pee, and sleep. A person can literally have all the money in the world, but he will someday leave his dead human body and all his shit and move on to whatever is next. This is the fate of all humans. For some, that time comes sooner than later.
That doesn't mean that people can't be better at somethings than others. Some are taller, some are richer, some might even be faster.
Now, of course my friend wasn't talking about human equality. He's a dude. And dudes are visual creatures. That's why we like to watch porn. Whereas women are mental creatures. And...I don't mean mental as in crazy. Mmm...OK. They're insane but that's not the point. They get turned on by reading porn. That's why romance novels claim at least 50% of the money spent on fiction. Women devour them up like starved vampires sucking on fresh virgin blood.
My pal had referred to his ex's looks. I'd hung out with her many times. She treated him really well. So for some reason it saddened me that he would say something like that about her. Which prompted 'We're all equal motherfucker!' thought in my head.
I've also heard my female friends say that they're way out of some poor soul's league. But more often than not, they mean personality wise. And this is where men, including me, get tripped up.
We're thinking, 'Bitch! I know shiet. I's gots me some knowledge. I ain't no dummy. That's three qualities right there, baby!'
But that's not what women mean. Remember how I said that women be hella crazy? I didn't say hella? I should have. They're nuts. Their minds are all over the place, in different dimensions, in imaginary worlds, in places that the toughest man would be like, "Oh, hell no! I'm getting the fuck outta here."
I'll be eating dinner with my girlfriend. We're having a deep conversation about life. This is what's going through her mind: Does he love me? Is my lip gloss good? I'll reapply after dinner. Why is he so argumentative? Is he going to be like that when we get married? When should I bring that up? Cuz last time I did that he ignored me. I don't like being ignored. My cat ignores me. He's so cute. And chubby. Wonder how my bff is doing? Why hasn't she texted? I texted her a minute ago. Hmm...my hair, why won't it grow faster? Are we still talking about life? What about our life? And will he eat my cat? Cuz he jokes about making him into a stew. He better not. That would piss me off. Gawd, I'm full. Ooh. Time for dessert. I'm fat! No I'm not. Fatso! Stop it! I wanna check my phone, but he hates that. Eh...he won't mind.
And that's within one second.
Women want someone who can handle them. And handle them like a man. They want that man to take control. Not like rape. But women want men to make decisions on what to do this weekend, where to eat, have their own opinions and passions, initiate sex. I get that.
But when a man tries to display his dick, both literally and figuratively, it ain't sexy. When I write at Starbucks, sometimes an older gentleman comes in and orders a tall coffee, a pastry, and sits at a table. He places a napkin on the table. On it he gently lays his Porsche key on its side, so people can see the Porsche symbol displayed like a billboard and will know that this man who is eating his pastry and drinking his tall coffee owns an expensive automobile manufactured by Porsche.
That, gentlemen, is how you show how small your dick is.
How did I get from human equality to showing your dick? Hell if I know.